False Notions
by calicosimone
Summary: Blaine is a secret agent gone missing with classified info stolen from the National Security Agency. Kurt is the agent assigned to find him, create a fake relationship and lure Blaine in. Will Kurt end up creating a relationship that is all too real? AU
1. Prologue

**A/N: To be continued. ****Blaine is a secret agent gone AWOL with classified info under a new identity, after being fired from the National Security Agency. Kurt Hummel is the agent set on a mission to find him, get close to him, create a fake relationship, and then lure Blaine into trusting him so he can ultimately give him over to the authorities. But, will Kurt end up creating a relationship that is all too real? Will it get in the way of his mission? AU, and will end up being rated M in later chapters**

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><p>"Yes. Yes, Blaine Anderson. I think it's best if we let him go. His performance is usually top notch, but recently it's been mediocre at best, considering his 3 failed missions. It's time."<p>

Blaine listened through the wall as the top supervisor at the National Security Agency considered his file on the phone in his private office. Neck clenched, and hands pressed against the wall, Blaine inhaled sharply as he realized what he was hearing in the one-sided phone exchange. Standing with his body pressed against the nearly sound-proof wall, he cupped his hands around his ear and pressed it against the wall in order to get a better listening point.

"No, I agree, it's definitely better if he goes. Okay, it's decided. Thank you for your time. Alright, talk to you later, good-bye.

Blaine heard the sound of the phone being returned to its cradle, and the scratch of pen on paper. A sigh. A chair being pushed back from a desk, and footsteps coming towards him. Blaine's heart quickened at the approaching supervisor and the realization that he was indefinitely losing his high-placement job at a top security agency. His fists clenched against the wall he was leaning up against and his eyebrows scrunched together. He was done. He quickly walked away towards the exit of the penthouse hallway, organizing his thoughts and pursing his lips.

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><p>Scratching absently at his arm as he cracked his head from side to side, Blaine let out an impatient breath. His lips twitched upwards as he gazed up at the chilly chamber he'd just entered, located in the enormous penthouse suite that housed the headquarters of the National Security Agency. Out of habit, he glanced over at the screen on the wall next to him, the one which used to identify the agents entering the covert chamber. The screen was dark, blank and smashed, shards of broken glass littering the floor under his feet. He let the brick in his hand drop to the floor, the sound echoing around the concrete walls.<p>

Blaine crouched down beside the fallen brick, being careful not to lean down on the fragments of broken glass. Leaning forward on his toes, Blaine slid his hand behind the convex identification screen, feeling around the damage until he felt the spherical surface of a round light bulb.

Peering into the crack in the screen, he observed that a single red dot of light stayed constant through the damage that Blaine had caused, indicating the computer was still active despite the broken screen. Fuck. Blaine clenched his fists in frustration, as he realized he would have to identify himself to the computer in order to gain access to the top level of the chamber, accessible by elevator only, which was located behind the two extremely strong metal doors in front of him.

He raised himself from his crouching position, standing straight up, and crossing his arms over his chest. He considered his options. Leave, and abort the entire plan. Stay, and reveal to the agency that would let him go in a few days, that he was stealing back the classified information he had once supplied them. He chewed on his bottom lip and blinked hard, breathing in roughly through his nose. He'd made up his choice. He leaned towards the debris and pressed the manual identification button beside the now ruined screen. He figured that since he wasn't technically fired that his name and identity would still be in the system.

A crackling noise sounded out from the speaker, the familiar voice of the robotic identification system taking place of the buzz after a few moments.

"Identify yourself."

"Blaine Anderson."

The familiar crackling system returned, stuttering through the speakers, until it was replaced by a short beeping noise, and then silence. The wall beside the cracked screen opened up, revealing a tiny camera lens, and a touch sensitive screen below it.

"Welcome Agent Number 304. Please supply your identification card and lean forward towards the red scanner for print and eye analysis."

Blaine walked towards the lens, and hesitated, before holding up his passkey to it. Holding it up would mean sure identification when they looked at the history of members entering the chamber. He swallowed hard. He had to do it. He lifted his hand with the tiny key up to the lens, allowing the computer to analyze the numbers written on it.

Placing his other hand on the touch screen below the lens, he pressed the pads of his fingers firmly onto it, watching as his prints were scanned with a bright light, flashing in a single ray underneath them. As the light ray ceased moving, he bowed his head, and leaned his eyes in toward the camera lens, widening them for detection. The female robotic voice came from behind him now, blaring from the speakers behind the heavy metal doors.

"Agent 304 identified as Blaine Anderson. Access to head chamber initiated."

The metal doors clicked open behind him, and silently swung open towards him as the air seal released. Blaine turned away from the lens and touch screen as they moved back into the wall, disappearing behind the plaster.

Blaine entered the steel elevator, heart beating through his chest as the doors swung back to their previous closed position. He looked at the buttons next to the door, numbered, one until fifty-one. He pressed the highest number, and watched it light up as the elevator started up and began to move up the shaft. As the elevator swiftly passed each floor, a lighter, cheerier voice announced each level of the chamber.

"Level 1: Financial and Personal Records."

"Level 2: Biological Samples."

Until finally, "Level 51: High Priority Classified Information."

The elevator stopped smoothly, and the heavy doors swung open revealing a small room. Blaine exited, and walked directly to the single computer in the middle of the tiny room at the top of the information chamber. He paused in front of it, watching the screensaver, a floating image of the NSA logo. He bent down in front of the desk, and moved the mouse, exiting the screensaver mode and bringing up a log-on page that required a username and password. He hummed to himself as he entered his credentials, now committed to memory after many years of use, and pressed the enter key.

The computer whirred into action, the basic log-on screen disappearing, and a single unnamed file folder coming into view on the desktop. He double-clicked the folder, and watched as the entire database of classified information was supplied in front of him, taking several minutes to compile. Using the search tool, he quickly located all case files with information supplied by him—all his years of work.

Inserting his flash drive USB key into the slot, he copied all the files onto the stick, tapping his finger impatiently as the information loaded itself onto the key. When the USB stick stopped flashing, indicating that the copying was finished, he opened up the Command Prompt on the system, and typed in several lines of code, deleting the copies of the information left on the desktop, and removing all traces of his indiscretion. Quickly logging off the system, he pulled the USB key from the slot, and held it in his hand, staring at the tiny vessel of information that held some of the nation's most classified information. He smiled to himself, shaking his head.

"Jackpot."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello, and welcome back to the insanity that is my mind. Please note that the dividers are mostly scene changes or POV changes. They switch around fast, so brace yourself for the fast pace. Enjoy!**

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><p>Kurt Hummel slept restlessly, trying to escape the dreams that were blaring sirens, flashing lights and panicked faces. He tossed and turned in his bed as covers flailed and tangled in his legs. Heart pounding and hair a tousled mess, his eyes flashed open as he woke up from one of his scarier dreams in a cold sweat. Springing up, Kurt breathed in and out erratically as he darted his sleepy eyes around the room.<p>

Everything was silent. He sighed as he picked up the fallen covers and glanced over at his blinking clock. 4:55AM. His alarm clock would go off in five minutes. He rolled his eyes as he collapsed back onto his lumpy pillow. His first day of work at the National Security Agency would start today, and he was still completely exhausted. Bleary eyed, his thoughts turned to the past few days.

He'd applied at the agency three months ago, not even expecting a call back. As the weeks turned to months, he was disappointed, but accepted the fact that they probably weren't looking for new agents. He had almost forgotten about his application until he'd received a call approximately a week ago from the agency. He'd been selected as one of the potentials for a new position as a junior agent and was offered a meeting with the head supervisor of the agency. The call for the meeting had been in New York and was mostly paperwork and a lot of signatures. He'd been flown to there from Ohio by the agency. Kurt let a little smile raise his lips as he rested on his pillow at that fact.

After the meeting had come the police check, fitness check, health check, polygraph and one insane week later, here he was: the lowest ranking member at the National Security Agency in New York City. However, it was a good job, guaranteed benefits, and a completely paid for condo in the city. Thinking of how the head supervisor had let him in on the reason for the hasty employment, he considered the circumstances.

One of the senior agents would be let off in a week or so because of his poor results which made room for a new junior agent. Kurt let his eyes close as nerves wracked his stomach. As prepared as he felt, it was still his first day and looking over at his alarm clock—it was starting in two minutes.

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><p>"And finally, this is where you'll sign out each day after a regular day in the office," concluded the tired looking woman who had been giving Kurt a tour of the agency headquarters. "Not that you'll be at the office very often as you've signed up to be an agent," she considered.<p>

Kurt looked at her expectantly, obviously wondering what he was to do now. The woman looked around briefly, shrugging her podgy shoulders. "That's basically it. You'll report to the supervisor of your department each morning for a status report, review the current missions, and discuss future plans. Your office and desk are in the B towers, to the left. Here's the key. We hope you enjoy it here at the NSA. Welcome aboard."

She said all this very quickly and handed him a rectangular magnetic strip with small, almost illegible writing engraved on it. The woman nodded, turned around and walked away towards the direction they had come.

Kurt stood dumbfounded in the brightly lit hallway next the checkout station where he'd just been issued a regulation photo identification. Looking down the hallway at the disappearing woman, he took a step forward in the opposite direction of the vanished tour guide, glancing curiously down at his new identification and magnetic key strip. As Kurt briskly walked down the hallway (left, as the woman had added as she'd turned around) a dark haired man turned around the corner and rushed towards him, thumping their shoulders and knocking the ID card and key from Kurt's hand. Kurt's brows pushed together in annoyance as he turned around to face the man who was now running away from him at full speed down the narrow hallway before disappearing around the corner.

"Hey!" Kurt shouted down the hallway, receiving no answer in return as his voice echoed around the walls.

He quickly glanced down the hallway, which seemed to lead to yet another narrow pathway. Kurt frowned down at the dropped items as he bent down the pick them up. As he rose, he considered the strange event, but let it clear out of his head. Shrugging his shoulders, he tried to remember what the woman had said as she'd spoken so quickly. _Something about a B Tower?_ Kurt bit down on his bottom lip as he turned to the left, hoping the hall would lead him to where he was supposed to go.

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><p>After Blaine had left the chamber, realization hit him like a brick as he walked quickly down the street, away from the towering skyscraper that housed the headquarters of the National Security Agency as well as the enormous chamber of covert information. He was now a wanted criminal, and there was definitely no "Hey, it wasn't me!" opportunity here. He'd walked into the agency as a hired and trusted agent, signed in with his identification card, walked up the stairs to the chamber, broken the screen and given his fingerprints. There was going to be no doubt about who'd done it since he'd practically given the agents who would investigate the intrusion the answer. In short, he was screwed.<p>

Pressing his knuckles to his forehead, USB key in hand, he turned to walk to the edge of the sidewalk, and raised his hand up to hail one of the many yellow cabs roaming around the streets. As one of the drivers pulled up to the curb, he snatched his hand back, realizing he had no cash and would have to pay by credit card, which could easily be traced back to him. All the NSA had to do was flash a badge at the cab driver and enquire where Blaine had asked to go. He couldn't risk it and he definitely couldn't use his credit cards anymore. Apologizing to the confused driver, Blaine stepped back onto the sidewalk and headed towards the subway, fishing for his metro card deep in his back pocket.

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><p>Puzzling about the strange incident with the dark haired man in the hallway, Kurt continued down the narrow hallway, until he reached what looked like a waiting room with an elevator in it. Basic looking red arm chairs were placed against the wall, although the taut fabric suggested that no one ever sat in them, while generic art prints were scattered about the plain walls.<p>

A laminate sign was positioned above the elevator, spelling out "To B Tower". Kurt stepped forward towards the elevator and pressed the button, the only one shown next to the doors. The doors opened immediately, with a dinging sound. He stepped inside, and turned around to face the buttons he expected to be beside the wall of the elevator, but found none. His eyebrows raised as the elevator began to move, the sound of the passing floors whistling around the closed doors. Half a moment later, the steel doors clicked and Kurt felt the elevator beginning to lose speed before stopping completely. Feeling an onset of panic, Kurt desperately swung his eyes around the surrounding walls, looking for a button, or a speaker, something. He heard another click come from above him now, and he spun his head upwards.

"Welcome to the National Security Agency, B Tower. Please insert your magnetic key into the key reader located next to the door."

The programmed female voice paused while Kurt fumbled around with the key strip, pushing it into the slot flanking the side of the door. Instantly the elevator began to start up, speeding upwards.

"Thank you. Please retrieve magnetic key." Kurt did so, as the elevator came to a sudden stop a moment later. The doors opened to reveal a modern office complete with a desk, laptop computer and leather couch facing a large window overlooking the city. Kurt strode forward, sitting down at his desk and running his fingers over the contents. He grinned at himself, as he thought, _young man in the city already coming so far_. His train of thought was interrupted by loud voices yelling outside his office, before stopping in front of his door.

"What do you mean he's gone? I was just heading to his office to tell him!" shouted the first voice, the harsh syllables slicing through the air.

"All the contents of his desk are gone and his computer has been completely wiped of all contents. Sir, I think he knew," chimed the second voice, a young female one.

"That's insane! There's no way he could have known. I discussed his deployment on the phone, over an encrypted line."

"There's another thing, Sir. It seems…" she hesitated, as if foreseeing her boss' upcoming reaction. "Well, it seems there's been an infiltration in the Information Chamber. It was him. All records show that a Blaine Anderson signed in and we have him on all cameras too."

The man gave a roar of rage that shook Kurt and made him recoil against his desk as he heard something smash against the wall.

"I need a priority team on this _now_! Where is everyone? That new guy, what's his name, Kevin? Get him on this; he's going to be our undercover agent. That Blaine scum already knows all of our older agents."

As the man continued his rant, Kurt took a few steps towards the door and turned the door handle, as he took a deep breath and calmly spoke.

"Hello, Sir. My name is Kurt Hummel, and it would be my pleasure to assist you."


End file.
